


LP3 - "Générique/Sway (Quién Será)"

by MovesLikeBucky



Series: Wasteland Jukebox [4]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: At least I tried to make it that, Detective Noir, F/M, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 12:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16387502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MovesLikeBucky/pseuds/MovesLikeBucky
Summary: “One can always trust the Shroud to deliver justice.”  A voice from behind us, soft and dripping like honey.  Sofia’s caught up with us and, just wow.  If the Grognak costume had me fighting for air, her new duds were straight up murder.  I really wanna know where she found that dress, color like the barrel of a gun, tight with sequins sparkling in just the right places to draw your eyes right where she wants it to.Trouble itself came out of the ground the day she broke out.





	1. Générique

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the fourth installment of the Wasteland Jukebox! A quick thanks to everyone who's read these I just want y'all to know that the view counts keep me going. It's been a long time since I've written anything regularly (probably about 10 years) and just knowing people are actually looking at it is enough to keep me doing it.
> 
> This time there will be song links, as usual, but the first one is an instrumental, so instead of lyrics I want to tell you all the interesting story of how this song came to be.
> 
> This song was performed by Miles Davis for the soundtrack of the French film "Ascenseur pour l'échafaud", a 1958 film by filmmaker Louis Malle. His assistant, Jean-Paul Rappeneau, suggested having Davis, who was playing a show in Paris at the time, come in to consult on the soundtrack of the otherwise finished film. Davis loved the film. He brought in four of his associates with no plan and recorded the entire soundtrack completely on the spot.

([Générique](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bq5CZjJutrc) - Miles Davis)

 

If you’d told me a week ago I’d be in the Third Rail, I wouldn’t have believed you.  Place isn’t my scene.  Take that a step further; if you’d told me I’d be in the Third Rail _and_ dancing with Sofia right now, I would think you were straight up _insane_.  Things like that don’t happen to guys like me.

And yet, here we are.  She’s in my arms as we sway through the crowd and I’m so lightheaded that if you breathed on me I’d probably fall over.  I’m trying to play it cool, this isn’t a romance thing after all, but it’s so damn hard.  She’s so beautiful, especially in that dress.  The feel of having her in my arms is something I want to keep with me forever; I’m so nervous I can’t even look her in the eyes. 

I’m not intending it, but it happens.  Every time I spin her around I wrap my arm around her a little bit tighter when she comes back.  Her head is on my shoulder and every time she speaks I can feel her breath on my ear.  It’s driving me crazy.  This is the only time I’ve ever been grateful for my lack of nerve when it comes to women, otherwise I would have kissed her already.  Her face is so close to mine, those eyes are so beautiful.  Like two warm shots of whiskey.  The good kind, not the kind we make with the razorgrain. The old stuff, from back in her time.  Hollis used to break it out for special occasions, I couldn't think of one more special than this.

I’m in so deep I’ll start drowning if I’m not careful. But damn, what a way to go.

But I should start at the beginning of this; before we got in over our heads.

 

////

She was right.  About the radio signal, that is.  It was coming from Scollay Square.  They don’t call it that now, haven’t in a long time.  Only way you can tell is from the old stone signs.  Now it goes by Goodneighbor.  “Of the people, for the people” is what the mayor says. Don’t let that fool you, this place is about as dangerous as they come.  The lowest of degenerates and whatever poison they please.  Got chem dealers in the hotel, a weapons shop ran by an Assaultron, and if you’re in need of a quick cap or two, someone _always_ has a bounty on their heads and someone’s always willing to pay.

There’s a lot of filth in this town; not a lot of people to clean it up.  Not a lot of people to _care_ about cleaning it up. 

Not in a town like Goodneighbor.

That’s why he started the broadcast.  Ghoul by the name of Kent, wants to serve some justice the old fashioned way; in a dark alley with some .45 rounds.  Vigilante style, served hot and fresh to the streets of Goodneighbor, courtesy of the Silver Shroud.

Kid’s an idealist, I’ll give him that.  Need more of them around these days.  Also lets be real, and a bit off topic, I’ve wanted to be the Silver Shroud since I was seven.  And thanks to her and Kent I finally can be.

I’m her right hand man, happily in the background.  She’s the General, after all, it’s her job to shine. She’s cunning, sharp as a goddamn tack. Most wouldn’t think it looking at her, she keeps them guessing.  Hell, she keeps me guessing.

But today, she wants me to take the lead.  Honestly, I think she’s just getting a kick out of the ridiculousness of all of this.

But I’m glad she convinced me.  Hell, I’m glad she convinced _Kent_.  He was determined that she should be the Shroud, and she’d make a great one, but she handed it off to me.  Doubt she knows just how much that means; the Shroud has been one of my heroes almost as long as the Minutemen have been.

Our first target is Wayne Delancey; murderer.  Killed a woman and her kids because she owed him money. Can’t stand shit like that.  Doesn’t take long to track him down; I go into the alley to confront him.

 “Wayne Delancey.” I say, putting on my best superhero voice.  I don’t know where Sofia is at the moment, but I know she’d laugh at that.

Also it’s kinda fun.

“Ha, hey man,” he sneers at me, already thinking about the best way to take me out.  “Those are some fancy duds, look expensive.  And ridiculous.”

“Wayne Delancey,” I repeat, “Your crimes have gone unpunished too long!”

“Ah so you’re a crazy fuck then,” he scowls at me, “That’s nothing a few bullets can’t cure!”

I raise my silver machine gun to take him out, but before I can fire there’s a _ridiculously_ loud cry like a crazed animal.

By the time I register what it is, Delancey’s head splits in two.  Looks like I found where Sofia went; she just launched herself from a nearby fire escape, wearing the only thing in the world stranger than this Silver Shroud costume. And man, I wish she wasn’t.  As in I wish she was wearing something else.  I didn’t mean it…not as in…well… _like that_.

She found this getup when we were on the hunt for the costume so Kent could fix it up.  Grognak the Barbarian; said she always preferred his comics anyway.  I knew she couldn’t resist the battleaxe either.  The costume, though, basically just some ragged pieces of cloth.  Doesn’t leave much to the imagination; doesn’t keep my imagination from running amok.

Now she’s got the head of the axe stabbed into the ground and is leaning on the end of the handle, laughing herself silly.

“Ever thought you’d see a barbarian jump from a fire escape, Cowboy?”

“Can’t say I ever did,” I can’t help but smile, “What in the ‘Wealth was that noise, though?”

“They don’t still have Tarzan?” She looks at me, and I shake my head.

“Nope, can’t say I’ve ever heard of him.”  Not that I could think anything when she’s looking like that.

“Dude raised by gorillas?  Screams like that when he swings through trees?”

I shake my head again.  Could she at least, I dunno, stop leaning on the axe?  It’s making for a view that’s hard to miss.

“Well, damn,” she says, “I figured that would never die, instead it’s Grognak and the Shroud, huh?  Hubris would _love_ that.”

She reaches above her head and stretches.  I’m not sure that’s better for me than the leaning, because now I can see every curve and muscle on her and _dear God_ she is beautiful.  I’m not the type of man to stare at a woman, my mama raised me better.  I can almost feel her slapping the back of my head now if she could see me.  Sofia isn’t saying anything about it, so I guess she doesn’t notice.  It’s kinda bad of me, but I can’t help but try to memorize what I see.  I wanna know every story behind every scar, they’re so uniquely her.  I wish I could trace them, keep them in my memory forever.  She’s got stretch marks, too, on her stomach. Probably from when she had Shaun. Don’t really care where they’re from, they’re beautiful on her, too.

Fucking hell, I’m gone when it comes to this woman.

She picks up the axe and slings it over her shoulder like some kind of sun-drenched warrior.  “Ugh, gross, I got some of his brains on the costume, I dunno if Abraxo will get _that_ out.  Guess I’ll have to have a costume change soon.”

I laugh in spite of myself, this is more fun than I’ve had in years. 

She’s still thinking about it, though, I can see it in her eyes. Sure, her laugh and her smile are both here, but her eyes are distant.  She’s thinking about the killer again.

I am worried about her.  She’s putting so much work into the Minutemen; and right now it’s because she’s stalling.  I’ve seen this before in others, the want of anything to take your mind off the problem at hand. I know she’s scared of what she’ll find, but she can’t keep this up forever.  She needs to confront this guy; for herself more than anything.  If there’s one thing I know, you can’t keep putting the problems of the now in the past.

I’m going to have to say something about it soon, I’m sure of it. I understand the running, got my own demons I’m running from myself.  The problem is, the truth will always come out eventually.  I’d rather see her face whatever comes next on her own terms, nobody else’s.

She’s done so much for so many people, she deserves that at least.

“You still with me, Cowboy?”  She flashes that crooked grin at me again, bringing me out of my thoughts, “Radio’s buzzing, Kent’s got something else for us.  Some dealer named A.J. selling drugs to _kids_.”

“Hell, no,” I smile at her and pull the hat down low, playing into my character, “Not on the Shroud’s watch!”

 

////

Not long after we dispersed with AJ and his goons, Kent came on the radio to let us know that Hancock wanted a personal meeting with us.  I’m at the Old State House, waiting for the druggie mayor to show up.  Sofia wanted to change, what with the brains on her clothes. Said she didn’t want to make a bad first impression on the mayor.  She also said to just play along when she gets here, don’t know what she means by that.

Not sure about the mayor here, seems like he spends more time strung out on Jet than he does taking care of his town, but that’s not really any of my business.  For whatever reason, good or bad, he’s taken notice of us.  I hear the door open behind me, and in walks the esteemed Mayor John Hancock along with one of his bodyguards.

“Well, well, well what have we here.” He sneers at me, mockingly. Something about a smirk on a ghoul’s face makes it that much more menacing.  “ _Vigilante justice_ I believe it’s called?  You having fun playing dress-up, Minuteman?”

“And if so?” I ask him, “What’s it matter?”

“It doesn’t, it doesn’t,” he chuckles, “Just a bit odd is all. I’ve seen your General running around, too.  Nice outfit, wonder how it would look on my floor.”

“Is there a reason I’m here,” he’s pissed me off, talking about her like that, “Or did you just wanna goad for a bit?”

 “Oooh, struck a nerve, eh?  You guys are causing quite the commotion around here,” he smirks as he takes a seat on his couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table that’s covered with drugs. The bodyguard stays positioned by the door, her finger resting on the trigger of her weapon.  He motions for me to have a seat as he continues, “I start hearing rumors about the Minutemen in Goodneighbor, I start to think I need to investigate.  But so far, I’m becoming quite a fan.  First Delancey, then the other goons.  Cleaning up the filth, nice thing to see, when I’m not the one having to do it.  Kent’s a good friend of mine; hate to see anything bad happen to him.  Just wanted to know who he managed to drag into this.  Make sure they were…respectable.”

“One can always trust the Shroud to deliver justice.”  A voice from behind us, soft and dripping like honey.  Sofia’s caught up with us and, just wow.  If the Grognak costume had me fighting for air, her new duds were straight up _murder._   I really wanna know where she found that dress, color like the barrel of a gun, tight with sequins sparkling in just the right places to draw your eyes right where she wants it to.

Trouble itself came out of the ground the day she broke out.

“Ah yes, and the woman of the hour arrives.” Hancock stretches his arms out to the sides in a gesture of welcome, somehow still comes across sarcastically.  “I heard the stories about a beautiful vault dweller running around the Commonwealth; the stories don’t do you justice, my dear.”  I feel the tips of my ears go hot; I wish he’d stop talking about her like that.

I turn to watch her as she walks towards us, hips swaying hypnotically.  It keeps up the illusion; lulls men into a false sense of security.  She leans onto the back of my chair, draping one arm around me.  I’m trying very hard not to turn my head, I’m sure I’d get more than an eyeful.  If she notices my sudden tenseness, she doesn’t show it.  She’s playing the character up; trying to read exactly what this Hancock character is all about.  I know the game.

My heart skips a beat anyway.

“Anyway, sorry I’m late, had to do some last minute shopping.” She practically purrs into my ear; I’ve never heard someone sound the way velvet feels and it’s almost excruciating.  I know it’s an act, but does she have to be so good at it? 

“To the point, Mayor Hancock,” I start.

“Please,” he interrupts, “My friends call me John.”  The menacing smile snakes back across his face again.

“As I was saying, _Mayor Hancock_ ,” I continue, “What can the Shroud and the Mistress of Mystery do for you?”

“So it’s like that, huh?  I can respect that.  We just met, after all.  Haven’t gotten to know each other _intimately._ ” Hancock laughs at this.  I'm not sure what to make of the comment, honestly.  He continues, “But while you’re going all out with your little Halloween parade, I feel like you should know something.  You kids have stumbled into something a whole lot bigger than you’ve bargained for.”

“Is that so?”  I’m starting to run out of patience, but this might be a good lead.  If this is just the tip of the iceberg, it’s time to see how far down it goes. 

“These lowlifes Kenny-boy’s been having you take out, they all work for the same asshole.”  He digs around in the piles on the table and pulls out an inhaler of Jet.  He takes a couple of quick puffs and I can see his black eyes glass over.  “That asshole’s gonna be looking for some old-fashioned revenge, you dig?”

“This is all very interesting, but you’re obviously a _very busy_ man.”  I’ve never been a fan of chems, nor of the people who abuse them. Especially not people who use them in front of someone they’re obviously asking a favor of.  “Do you have a name or anything for us to go on?”

“Goes by Sinjin,” he’s slurring his words now, the Jet slowing everything around him, “Takes two-bit raider outfits and makes them scary. Not a big operation right now, but if left alone, well…I’m sure you know all about raiders, don’t ya Garvey? Heard about Concord, some nasty business.”

“Rather not think about that, thanks.”

“You know, you could check out the Rexford, Fred can hook you up with something to take the edge off those… _unpleasant_ memories,” he sneers as he talks, I glare at him, “But if that’s not your cup of tea, suit yourself.”

“Any idea where this Sinjin guy is?” the Mistress asks, voice soft and low.  Does she have to talk like that right in my ear?

“Nope,” he stretches and crosses his arms behind his head, leaning back, still riding out his Jet high, “Nobody knows.  He’s more of a _behind-the scenes_ guy if you catch my drift.  But I’m sure if you keep poking his people with that machine gun he’ll come out of hiding.”

He waves his hand nonchalantly at the bodyguard, “Fahrenheit, doll, give us a minute, huh?”  She rolls her eyes at him and leaves, closing the door behind her.

“Look,” he takes his feet off the table and leans towards me and Sofia, “Raiders are ruthless…but this guy?  Whole different class of raider.  He’s leveled farms, he’s napalmed his own men when they’re in his way.  Nobody knows nothing about him, and if he ain’t dealt with now, in a couple of years it’ll take more than the Minutemen to bring him down.”

And there it is, the common people, always my weakness. Naïve soul that I am, not surprising he read that off of me.

“Guess I’m up for some community service, then.” I tell him.

He smirks at me again, his gaze is lingering and making me uneasy.

“You know, you’re all right.  If you take care of this asshole, I’m inclined to show some, _gratitude,_ you feel me?  Go talk to Whitechapel Charlie, he might have some info for ya. Smiling Kate, that’s who you wanna find.”

I nod and stand up to leave, Sofia links her arm with mine.

“Hey, Minuteman,” he calls out as I open the door, “You know I can’t help but wonder, maybe you can enlighten me.  That song, that one that Travis from Diamond City is always playing?  60 Minute Man, any truth to that?”

We leave without another word as he laughs behind us.

She’s not gonna let me live that down, I already know.

“Did you make a new friend in there?” She smiles up at me as we walk towards the Third Rail.

“I don’t know if we have the same idea of friendship.”

“What’s the matter, Garvey,” she asks, “Not much for flirtation?”

“Never been great at it, no.  Always catches me off guard.”

“Still, never hurts to have friends in _high places._ ” She’s grinning at me from ear to ear now, proud of the play on words.  If it makes her laugh, it’s worth the vague embarrassment of not having anything to say while a ghoul hits on me.  “Gonna be real funny seeing you in a seedy dive bar, Cowboy”

 

////

Calling the Third Rail a seedy dive bar is giving it too much credit.  You’ll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy in the Commonwealth.  Killers for hire, drug dealers, whatever you need to do your worst you’ll find it here.  The place is pretty packed tonight; looks like everyone got a little too far into the Mentat tins.  Magnolia is on stage, crooning away.  The dance floor is crowded with people, writhing around in their drug-induced euphoria.

We make our way through the smoke and the crowd, Sofia still on my arm, to the bar to speak with the old Mr. Handy bot.  He notices us almost immediately.

“What’s all this then?  You look like one of them wankers from the posters; you’re either paying to drink, or you’re getting away from my bar.”

“You look upon the Silver Shroud; I seek someone who works for Sinjin, the mayor said you might have information for me on someone by the name of Smiling Kate.” I put on my best intimidating face as Sofia lights up a cigarette.  Not that I’m sure these things can actually _tell_ what’s intimidating and what isn’t.  Did they program robots for that?

“Heh, what a nutter,” the robot says, “But I may have a speck of a lead for ya, but it’s gonna cost ya.”

“Don’t ya know, Charlie,” Sofia takes a drag and leans across the bar at him, letting the smoke out slowly as she speaks, “It’s not wise to stand between the Silver Shroud and righteous justice.”

“You two got some real nerve, huh?  Well, have it your way then.  Smiling Kate’s in the VIP chatting with some gunners; trying to recruit, I believe.  Follow her, she’ll lead you back to Sinjin.”

The problem is immediate.  The VIP room is in the back corner, attached to a long hallway.  We can’t see what’s going on inside unless we actually _go inside_.  That’s out of the question, I’d stick out like a sore thumb in this costume.  We could watch the door, follow her when she leaves.  But the floor is so packed with people that seeing her will be nearly impossible.  If we were in the mix of dancers, however, we could move around freely and keep one set of eyes on the VIP hallway at all times.

I have a distinct feeling that I’m going to regret this tomorrow; but Sofia has played along so far, and this is the only option I see for watching undetected.

As the quick beats of Sway start, I look at Sofia.

“Well, I don’t see any other way to make sure we don’t miss her,” I hold out my hand to her, swallowing the lump in my throat that threatens to kill whatever nerve I’ve got right now, “Wanna dance with me?”


	2. Sway (Quién Será)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don’t really see a choice either. I put on my biggest smile and take his hand. He’s still hamming it up himself; he kisses my hand and pulls me towards the dance floor. Such a harmless gesture, but my touch-starved heart wants to beat out of my chest anyway.
> 
> He takes my right hand in his left and places his right hand on my back, keeps a polite distance between us. I haven’t danced since my wedding, this is liable to be a disaster.

_I can hear the sound of violins_

_Long before_

_It begins_

_Make me thrill as only you know how_

_Sway me smooth_

_Sway me now..._

([Sway/Quién Será](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gvD0iVr-0JQ) - Rosemary Clooney)

 

Not much time for fun these days, but man this sure is.  Us kicking ass together, acting the part of the Mistress of Mystery and the Silver Shroud.  Hell, it’s fun seeing Preston in that crazy get-up.  It’s strange, anyone can wear a hat, but not just anyone can really _wear_ a hat, you know?  There’s a difference between someone just having a hat on their head and someone who wears it like Rick Blaine.  Or Sinatra.  Or, hell, Indiana Jones for that matter.  Some guys just have the face for it and, if I wasn’t sure before, I am now. Always a sucker for a chiseled jaw, it seems. I still have my arm linked around his, leaning against him.  Making a scene of it. 

Kinda losing myself staring at him, though.  Regular damn prince charming, this one.

Don’t know why I’m doing this to myself, nobody said I had to play it up quite this hard, and yet here I am.  Torturing myself.  The exact _opposite_ of what I’ve been telling myself _._   I’m supposed to be getting past these feelings.  So much for that, here I am hanging all over him like a five dollar trick.

Don’t even know what he thinks about what’s going on, but he hasn’t broken character, so it must not bother him.

It’s a shame he keeps all those layers on all the time. Even through the ballistic-reinforced trench coat I can tell how strong and toned his arms are.  I’m trying really hard not to think about it.

Right now, he’s trying to get information out of Whitechapel Charlie; we’re on the hunt for some bastard named Sinjin for the mayor. I gotta hand it to Mayor Hancock, he got Preston flustered there.  Preston’s a handsome guy, but lord does he clam up the second anyone starts to flirt with him.  It’s kinda cute, actually.

I’m gonna have to come to terms with this crush eventually. Either that or I’m gonna have to find someone to pin me to a wall with no strings attached.  Self-service is only as good as self-service is, if you catch my drift.  Sometimes you just need another person.

Takes two to tango, and all that.

I light up my cigarette and try to look as unassuming as possible while he barters for information.  I’d take the lead on this, but damn it does me good to see him this way. Happy.  It suits him; shouldn’t hide a smile that pretty.  Plus the way he does the voice is hilarious.

 “Heh, what a nutter, but I may have a speck of a lead for ya, but it’s gonna cost ya.” Typical dive barkeeps, everything is about the money. 

“Don’t ya know, Charlie,” I say, “It’s not wise to stand between the Silver Shroud and righteous justice.”  I stare him down, wondering if I can even intimidate a robot.

“You two got some real nerve, huh?  Well, have it your way then.  Smiling Kate’s in the VIP chatting with some gunners; trying to recruit, I believe.  Follow her, she’ll lead you back to Sinjin.”

Magnolia moves into her next song, a nice bolero beat.  Quién Será, one of my favorites; and apparently everyone else agrees.  The dance floor is packed.  I catch Preston staring at me and I’m suddenly really concerned about if he likes this dress I dug up at Daisy’s place.

He takes a deep breath, almost like he’s steadying himself and reaches out his hand to me.  “Well,” he says, keeping his eyes low under the hat, not meeting mine, “I don’t see any other way to make sure we don’t miss her, wanna dance with me?”

I’m dumbstruck for a moment.  I mean, tactically, it makes sense.  We can move around the floor without creating any suspicion and it’ll ensure we always have one set of eyes on the VIP.  But on the other hand, I don’t know if I can handle this.

Still, I don’t really see a choice either.  I put on my biggest smile and take his hand.  He’s still hamming it up himself; he kisses my hand and pulls me towards the dance floor.  Such a harmless gesture, but my touch-starved heart wants to beat out of my chest anyway.

He takes my right hand in his left and places his right hand on my back, keeps a polite distance between us.  I haven’t danced since my wedding night, in a tiny motel room in Vegas with Nate.  That had been more drunken revelry than anything else; _this_  is liable to be a disaster. 

“This is ok, right?” He asks me, guess I’m not the only one who feels awkward.

“It’s fine as long as I don’t step on your toes,” I say, and feel the flush rising in my cheeks, “I’m quite a bit out of practice.”

“It’s alright,” His eyes are refusing pointedly to meet mine as we spin and sway, “You’re doing great.”

I honestly doubt that.  But he’s good at this.  Like, really good at this.  Where the hell did he learn to dance around here?

“Let’s keep our eyes out for her, VIP is just behind us.” He says to me as he spins me out and brings me back in.  His hand is further to the middle of my back now, pulling me a little closer, just enough I can detect the residual smell of gunpowder from the shoot-out with the gunners.  It’s nice on him.

We keep moving around the floor, taking turns with our eyes on the VIP.  Can’t see much down the long hallway.  He spins me again and now I’m even closer to him, my head is practically on his shoulder. I guess it’s hard for him to hear me over the violins.  The music is entrancing, it’s hard not to lose myself in this.

I’m so wrapped up in everything, I almost miss it.  The negotiations have broken down.  She’s in the short hallway arguing with some kid; doesn’t seem to be going her way.

“Looks like our mark isn’t having a fun time,” I whisper to him.  It seems like we keep getting closer together, barely any space between us now. I can feel him shudder slightly, but it’s not that cold in here?  I must be imagining it.  We turn so he can see for himself, get a good look at the mark.

“Couple of gunner conscripts in there,” he whispers to me, way too close.  I can feel his breath on my ear and it almost unravels me.  That and the low husky growl he's talking with right now. “They’re pretty low level in the gunners, makes sense to try to recruit them if you’re starting from the ground up.”

There’s nothing in that, just information, but the way he’s saying it makes me want to die right here.  I can’t handle this, I can’t handle this at all.

“Could be good news for us,” he says, looking at me now, “If they can’t recruit that low, this guy might not be as scary as the mayor thinks he is.”

I make the mistake of looking up at him, and there’s those deep brown eyes.  Like dark mahogany, warm and comforting.  Just the slightest hint of a spark; but as for what that spark is, I can’t even begin to go down that road.  I can’t stop my eyes from moving down to his lips.  I wonder how it would feel; I want to know so badly…

I need to get out of here or I’m going to make a very bad decision.  I break apart from him, rather abruptly.  I almost feel bad, but right now my head is too fuzzy, I need to get out of here.

“I’ll be right back, I just need to get out of this…” Fuck, I need an excuse, and quick.  “This drug haze, I’m getting lightheaded I think there’s too much Jet in the air, I’ll be right back.”

I rush off upstairs to what used to be the restroom before he can say anything.  I take one look back once I get to the top of the staircase, and I could almost swear I see sadness spreading on his face from up here.

 

////

One thing that hasn’t changed in 2287, bathrooms are still a great place to run away to.  Need to cool down in a hurry?  Nothing like a locked bathroom stall.

Not like anything in here works anyway.

I just need to get myself back together.  The whole thing is becoming a little ridiculous.  Just dancing with someone shouldn’t make me have these emotions.  And why did he shudder like that when I whispered to him?  And why did I end up closer every time he spun me around? 

No.  No, it couldn’t be that, I’m sure of it.  Sure, guys notice me for my looks, but rarely once they scratch the surface do they stay interested.  Especially not genuinely kind guys like him.  No, obviously it was colder in there than I thought and he was only pulling me closer so he could hear me better.

Suddenly I hear the door open; I stay perfectly still.  I don’t know if societal convention regarding restrooms still exists here, but if he’s looking for me I’m not ready to talk to him yet.  Instead I hear two sets of footsteps followed by a woman’s voice.

“Boss is getting antsy,” the voice says, “Really hoped those conscripts would take our offer.  Idiots, Sinjin’s paying better than anything that bastard Clint can come up with.”

My breath catches in my throat; it’s Kate, she’s in here now. Did Preston see her leave?

“Is the boss actually getting scared of this chump?” Asks the other voice, another woman, “I mean, the Silver Shroud isn’t real, right?”

“Avery don’t be stupid,” says Kate, “It’s just a mook in a costume, but we found who’s calling the hits.  Stupid idealist ghoul over at the memory den.  Northy’s on his way to collect him now, then we’ll see what the _Silver fucking Shroud_ has to say about it.”

“Ha,” laughs the one called Avery, “Bet he folds like fucking paper when his friend is in trouble!”  The two women laugh as they leave the restroom.

Well, fuck.

As soon as the coast is clear I run back downstairs; awkwardness completely forgotten.  Kent is in trouble and it’s all our fault, I need to find Preston.

He’d gone back to the bar apparently, he was posted there, looking like he’d been there all day.  I fight my way through the crowd of people to him; we didn’t have time to sit around right now.

“Preston!”  He looks up at me and immediately the somber look on his face goes away.

“General, are you feeling better?” Right, chem cloud, God, I don’t even _know_ if you can get secondhand chems.  I might look like an idiot right now and I wouldn’t even know it.  But that’s not important right now.

“Yes but no,” I’m slightly out of breath from running down the stairs in heels, “Kate was in the bathroom upstairs, talking to one of her associates; they’ve got a guy headed to the Memory Den right nowto kidnap Kent!  They’re trying to set up a trap for us!”

“Shit,” he says, “I didn’t even see her leave!”

I feel a slight pang of embarrassment; it’s my fault we missed her leaving.  It’s my fault they’re gonna get the drop on Kent, and if something happens to him, that’ll be my fault, too.

 

////

Kent was already gone when we got to the Memory Den.  I’m still kicking myself for that.  Get lightheaded over a man and end up putting another one in danger.  It wasn’t long before the radio broadcasted again.  Sinjin himself this time.  " _If you want to see your friend alive, Shroud, meet me at Milton General Hospital_."

So that’s where we’re headed now.  I changed out of my dress, didn’t think it made for good ruined-city-hiking.  I’m back in my road leathers now, walking furiously, not speaking.  I must be pretty transparent with my self-loathing; Preston keeps looking at me, face full of concern.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” he breaks the awkward silence hanging over the walk, “They already had him before we even left the bar.” He doesn’t know the real reason I ran off, and it’s not like I can tell him.  ‘ _Oh hey, best friend, sorry I ran off like that it’s just the pure and simple fact that you were dancing with me had me hot and bothered_.’Yeah, that’ll go over well, I’m sure.

“Yeah, but if I hadn’t ran off we’d have seen when she left and we could have tailed her here.”  I’m practically storming in front of him, I don’t want to talk about this. I’m already pissed off at myself, isn’t that enough?  He quickens his pace to catch up with me and puts his hand on my shoulder to spin me around to look at him.

“General, hear me out for a second,” he’s looking me right in the eyes now, full of worry, “Sinjin isn’t going to kill Kent, not if we can help it.  There was a risk involved to running that station and he knew that, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked us for help.  We’re gonna get this guy, I promise.”

He's got both hands on my shoulders, keeping me at arms length.  Still, I don’t know what it is about him that makes me feel like everything will be okay, but he just  _does_.  He’s steady and strong, dependable.  And he never says anything if he doesn’t mean it fully.  If he says we’re gonna save Kent and get this Sinjin fucker, then we are.

We continue on to the hospital.  It’s weird being here; this is the hospital I had Shaun at.  Now it’s just another run down building only fit for the dredges of what passes for society these days.  Not surprising for raiders to hole up in here. 

I pull out my .44, he pulls out his fancy machine gun, and we go in.  There’s no question we’re going to have to fight our way through; when do we not? But this is a dance I can always do. Just like that, it’s like everything earlier never happened, we’re back to what we’re used to.  Silent signals, coordinated movements, taking out raider after raider as we go deeper and deeper into the hospital.

We finally arrive in the basement, and there they all are. Smiling Kate, Northy, and Avery have their guns trained on the door while the ghoul in the middle, I assume Sinjin himself, has his rifle planted firmly against Kent’s head.

“You idiots better not turn heel and run,” Sinjin says to his associates, “Don’t forget, I knows where your families live.”  He turns his attention to Preston, “Take one more step and we’ll get a good hard look at the inside of Kent’s head.”

“Really, Sinjin?  Shielding yourself behind the innocent,” he’s got his booming hero voice back on, I can barely believe he’s still doing that right now, “You’re a craven man, and you too will fall before me.”  Preston gives me a quick wink, and I think I can tell what he’s planning.

“You know, punk,” Sinjin says, pushing the tip of the barrel into Kent’s temple, “Some of these assholes think you’re some kind of living legend.  I know better, you’re _human_ , and you’re weak.  You came here for, what, exactly?  Saving your little friend?  Is he really worth it?”

“The Shroud would never leave an innocent in danger!” Preston’s voice is booming now, he’s trying to keep them distracted.  He takes a few steps closer, testing the waters.  I can see the looks on Avery and Northy’s faces. 

“I have cut a path through all of your _thugs,_ ” he adds so much disdain to that last word even I think it’s a little insulting, “Who are you to say I’m not truly the Shroud?” He smirks towards them, I can see how antsy the others are getting.

“You’re just a phony,” bellows Sinjin, “Here’s what we’re gonna do.  You fucks and Kent, we’re gonna shoot the hell out of you, til nothing’s left but paste. Then, we’re gonna kill every worthless bastard in Goodneighbor.  And finally, we’re going to burn it down.  All the way to the ground!”

He’s pissed as hell.  Preston has moved closer still.  Kate isn’t budging, but Avery and Northy look terrified.  I keep my .44 trained on Kate.

Preston looks up at Sinjin from under the brim of the black fedora, righteous fire burning in his eyes, “I am the instrument of justice; I cannot fail.”  He lifts the submachine gun, silver gleaming in the overhead lights, “Death has come for you, and me, I’m just it’s Shroud.”

Avery screams, “It’s him!  It’s the Shroud!  He’s real!” Before anyone can stop her she runs out of the back door.  Northy just blubbers and isn’t far behind her.

“Fucking cowards!” Sinjin screams, but isn’t able to say anything else as the bullets from the silver gun start to rip through him. Kate raises her shotgun to take out Kent but I stop her quickly with a hit from my .44, right between her eyes.

The whole thing is over before it even began.

“I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life!” Kent says as Preston unties him.

“I’m just glad we got here in time,” I say to him, “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Nah, I mean,” he sighs, “It’s what I get, right?  I shouldn’t have tried to do this, crime-fighting ain’t like it is in the pictures or in the radio shows.  This place is too far gone, even for the Silver Shroud.”

Preston looks him right in the eyes, still with that righteous fury.  Goddamn boy scout, this one.  It’s one of the things I like most about him.

“Kent, if you give up, then the bad guys have already won,” he smiles at the old ghoul, “I mean, look what we accomplished here!  This guy was bad news, and now his entire operation is gone!”

“You’re right, Mr. Garvey.  I just need some time; heal up, you know?”

“That’s completely understandable, my friend,” Preston smiles at him, “Besides, what would the Shroud be without his faithful friend, Rhett Reinhart?”

 

////

We’re back in Goodneighbor now; back at the Old State House to talk to the mayor again.  I like this guy, he’s got just the right amount of crazy in him.

“Well, good job you two,” Hancock snarls at us from his position, reclined on the red sofa, “Down goes the big bad Sinjin, the thin line of freedom upheld for another day.  Here.”

He tosses a tin of caps to us, which Preston opens.

“ _Wow_ so generous, Mister Mayor,” he says, “Using us to deal with your problems and this is all we get?”

“Hey now, Minuteman,” the mayor grins at Preston, “I got somethin’ else you could have; my bedroom’s in the basement and I only need 20 minutes.”

I can’t stop the snorting laugh that escapes me as Preston’s face goes from sarcastic to shockingly embarrassed.

“What’s so funny, Sunshine,” Hancock turns his attention to me, “If you’re jealous, I’m always up for a menage if you catch my drift.”  He outstretches his arms nonchalantly, “The more the merrier, I always say.”

“Actually, Mayor, I think we’ll be leaving,” Preston says to him, his voice a little higher than usual, “I remember getting word of a settlement needing our help.”

“Ah, so be it,” His smile falters just a bit, “As they say, parting is such sweet sorrow; but I’ll see the two of you again, I’m sure of it.”

I link my arm in Preston’s again, and we say our goodbyes and leave.  Hancock has a screw loose, but I think deep down he’s a good guy, and a powerful ally for the Minutemen. 

I don’t unlink my arm from his once we’re outside.  It’s nice, walking through town like this.  I may not be able to handle dancing with him, but this I can do.  And it makes me feel safe.

“So, General?”

“Yes, Preston?”

“I really like that new pistol you picked up, did you name it yet?”

“Yep,” I grin at him, “Callahan.”

“What’s a Callahan?” He smiles at me, curious.

“From an old movie, he was kind of a loose cannon cop on the edge.  I always liked those old movies, Nate never really did.  The cop used a .44, so I named mine after him.”

Preston laughs, “From an old movie, huh?  I like it though, has a nice ring to it.”

We’re both quiet for a moment, everything back to normal. Something about dancing threw us both off.  This is nice, though.  I could get used to it, even though I shouldn’t.  But there’s something else that’s been bothering me.

“I can’t keep running from things, can I?” I ask him. He’s been so good to me, letting me work through my problems, letting me take my time.  He’s never questioned me on it, just let me do what I felt like I needed to.  We almost lost a friend today, and I’m here putting off finding my husband’s killer just because I’m scared.  It’s time to move on, and I need a swift kick in the ass now.

“Well,” he starts, “You _could_ , but you have to think if you could live with yourself.  I know I put you in an almost impossible position when I asked you to lead the Minutemen.  I didn’t have any right to ask you to take that on.”  I can feel his arm tighten around mine, just a bit.  “I honestly still can’t believe you said yes… if it was for me, or for the Commonwealth, or for some other reason.  It doesn’t really matter.  I just want you to know I appreciate what you’ve done.  If you look at where we were then to where we are now…I can hardly believe it.”

I smile at him, I know it took a lot for him to say all of that. We’re very close, but getting him to open up is difficult sometimes.

“All of that being said,” he starts up again, “I know you’ve been throwing yourself into the work to stave off the inevitable.  You’re going to have to face that man, Kellogg, sometime.  It’s the only way you’re going to find your son.  If you want me there with you, I will be, just say the word.”

“I’d like that, Preston,” I let loose a sigh of relief that I didn’t realize I was holding in, “I’ll find Dogmeat when we get back to Sanctuary and we’ll track him down.”

“Sounds good to me, Sofia.”

I lean a little closer into him as we walk out of Goodneighbor into the sunset.

A happy ending to hold onto for now, who knows what tomorrow is going to bring us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading part 4 of Wasteland Jukebox!
> 
> That got a little awkward for a minute there, didn't it? So close to realizing things, Sofia, you were so close.
> 
> Fair warning, we're getting a little angsty next time folks. The trip to Fort Hagan is not gonna go the way she wants, but if you've played the game you already know that.
> 
> See you guys next time! Thanks again for reading!


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